The Lost Boys
by enilorues
Summary: Gallavich fiction: just a collection of semi-related situations in their journeys together. I've tried to explore different aspects of Mickey and Ian's characters, so each chapter might show a slightly different version of each of them. Timeline will jump too, which I may fix later if I create more content.
1. Chapter 1

"Fuck. Fuck!" Mickey was pacing up and down the house. He'd just been told that his dad's house was being sold and he could no longer live there.  
"Calm down Mickey, you can stay with me at Fiona's." Ian tried to make him stop pacing, but Mickey just shrugged him off and kept walking.

"Fucking Fiona's? No way. No fucking way!" He put out the stub of a cigarette in his mouth and replaced it with another. When he fumbled on the lighter, Ian grabbed it and lit it for him, grabbing a cigarette of his own.

"Why not, Mick? Where else you gonna go?"

"What and tell them I'm your boyfriend and they'll just be cool with it? And Fiona will be fine squeezing another person in that house? Yeah no fucking worries. Christ!" Mickey turned again, this time walking straight out of the house.

Ian jogged to catch up with him and he strode down the sidewalk, heading nowhere. When he caught up, Ian grabbed Mickey's arm and Mickey flung around, his hand clipping Ian on the side of the mouth. He didn't stop or apologise, but turned around and kept walking, cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth.

This time Ian ran in front of him and stood in his path. Mickey's eyes were manic, he did not hesitate but drew his hand back and punched the red-head right in the eye, and immediately Ian saw red as blood pooled in his vision.  
"Fuck Mickey, stop!" He had stopped, "Do you need to hit me again? Get it out?" Ian wanted him to say no. Ian expected Mickey not to hit him. But he did. He fucking did. Bam. Another blow to the face. Ian wasn't going to fight Mickey, but Mickey was going to fight him.  
"Feel better yet?" Ian yelled, forcing Mickey to look him in the eye.

' _I love my tough Mickey, but not like this'_ thought Ian.  
"Fuck off, Gallagher" and he kneed the taller boy in the stomach, winding him and bringing him to my knees.  
"I love you" Ian rasped. Ian couldn't take anymore and lay there on the road, curled up, staring up at Mickey.  
"Fuck!" Mickey exclaimed, and took a long drag on his cigarette before throwing it away. He crouched down and put his arm around the bloody Ian. He couldn't maintain the crouch though, and fell backwards. With Mickey sitting on the curb, Ian crawled towards him and put his head on the brunette's lap. Mickey wrapped his arms around Ian and cried into Ian's hair.

' _This is my Mickey too'_ Ian reminded himself _' Vulnerable. Little_ '. Neither of the boys said anything. Ian let Mickey cry until he was done, and then Ian sat up and put his head on Mickey's shoulder, so the younger boy could hold the older of the two.

"I'm going to go live at my cousins for a bit." Mickey said quietly. "Lip or Fiona will probably kill me if I bring you home like this anyway." Ian didn't move. Mickey was leaving. Ian did what he does best when he's upset, and stayed silent. He couldn't think of a better thing to do. He couldn't think of a solution to their problem. He didn't know how he could stay with Mickey if he hit him, but the idea of leaving Mickey hurt more than any of these physical injuries.


	2. Chapter 2

Mickey woke up with a groan, and felt Ian's body beside him. Ian's face was still caked with dried blood and Mickey doubted he'd be able to open one of his eyes properly. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Mickey continued to stare at Ian. Ian hadn't stirred at all. Without thinking, Mickey lifted a hand, bringing it towards Ian's red hair. After a moment of hesitation, Mickey ran his fingers through Ian's hair, enjoying the feeling of the strands between his fingers, whilst also wanting to grab it and tug it. Although the blood on Ian's face told Mickey that Ian wasn't weak, which Mickey was proud of, it also bothered Mickey. It wasn't how he liked Gallagher to look. Pulling some shorts on, Mickey stumbled to the bathroom. After a piss, he found an ice-cream container under the sink and emptied the assortment of hairbrushes and other products he didn't know back in the cupboard. He filled up the bucket with water, and grabbed a flannel from the cupboard in the laundry. Realising it should be warm water, he went back the bathroom and refilled it.  
"What are you doing?" Came a voice, Mickey turned around and it was Debby,  
"None of your business Debby, go bake a cake or something, yeah?" Mickey replied, and hurried off back to Ian's room, putting a chair behind the door so they'd have some warning if one of the other Gallagher kids decided to walk in. ' _There is no fucking privacy in this house'_ thought Mickey. They were lucky that Carl had fallen asleep on the couch last night, and Lip was at Karen's. Mickey wet the flannel in the ice-cream container of warm water and knelt on the mattress next to Ian's face.

When Mickey brought the flannel to Ian's face, Ian squirmed and tried to sit up before wincing and grabbing his side where his broken rib was clearly hurting him and lying back down.  
"Calm the fuck down, Gallagher" Mickey said softly, grabbing his chin and moving Ian's head to face him.  
"What are you doing, Mick?" he asked, his voice rough from sleep. Mickey grabbed a half empty bottle of beer sitting near the mattress and tipped some into his mouth.  
"Shut up, and don't squirm".  
"Wait up" Ian said, and eased himself up so he was leaning on the wall behind him, with his left hand on his sore rib, and his right resting on Mickey's thigh as Mickey knelt next to him. Mickey pretended not to notice that his leg was tingling where Ian touched, or the feeling in his abdomen that came with it. Mickey raise an eyebrow and gave him a look. Ian nodded and leant his head against the wall. When it hurt him, he would squeeze Mickey's thigh, but didn't say a word. With that feedback, Mickey was about to slow down or be more gentle when Ian needed it. Mickey spent a good 5 minutes cleaning up Ian's face before the water had turned red with blood and it wasn't cleaning him anymore. Mickey got up to go change the water and found himself locking eyes with Ian. Ian's big eyes stared at Mickey, and the intensity of the moment made him embarrassed and awkward.

"Shut up" Mickey mumbled and kissed the redhead on the forehead. Mickey finished cleaning Ian's face. Ian dried it with a tee-shirt from a drawer before putting it on. Ian took the bucket from Mickey and put it next to the bed before grabbing Mickey and flipping the two of them around, so Mickey now had his back to the wall, whist Ian straddled him. Ian grabbed Mickeys face, looked from one eye to the other, then kissed him. Before Mickey could say or do anything, Ian grabbed the ice-cream bucket and stepped out of the room. Mickey closed my eyes, and could faintly hear Ian talking to someone outside. Just then, Lip walks into the room.  
"What are you doing with him, Mickey? Are you in? You can't just bring him home with his face all messed up and then hide out in my room all afternoon". ' _The little shit'_ thought Mickey. He stood up and walked towards Lip, puffing out his chest and walking with more of a swagger than normal.  
"What's it to you, huh?"  
"Seriously Mickey? What's it to me? He's my fucking brother! You know what our family is, you mess with him and you mess with all of us. You think you can just mess him up and we'll let you?"  
"Fuck you" Mickey spat, raising a fist. Ian came from nowhere and grabbed the fist, calming Mickey down.  
"It's fine, Lip. It was his family. He told them he was gay, and well, this happened. Leave it, Mick. Sit down you idiot." Gallagher pushed Mickey onto the bed who maintained eye contact with Lip, still fuming. Lip didn't say anything but walked out the door, leaving it open. Mickey made to get up but Ian put a hand on his chest and pushed him back down.  
"Stop, Mickey. Jesus". He got up and closed the door again, but didn't put the chair behind it. Mickey figured it didn't bother him anymore. _'How can he be so okay with his family knowing what went on in his relationships?'_ Mickey though _t 'It was none of their business, and they should stay away'._ Mickey felt himself calm down as Ian straddled him again, though. Mickey grabbed at his waist, but Ian just smiled and sat back on the brunet's stomach, grabbing the bucket of water. Mickey flinched as Ian began to clean his face in return.  
"Don't squirm you loser" Ian joked. _Cheeky bitch_. After a few minutes Ian was done, and he grabbed Mickey's hand to pull him downstairs.  
"Can't we just stay here, Gallagher?"  
"No. And it's not Gallagher, it's Ian." Mickey looked him over, before nodding and looking around for a shirt and some cigarettes. Mickey mentally prepared himself to deal with the Gallagher family and thought he was ready. But when he saw them all gathered around the table, weaving in and out of each other, it made him too uncomfortable.

"Later Gallaghers" Mickey mock-saluted and headed out the door. It was a few minutes before Ian followed, running to catch up. Ian handed Mickey a piece of dry toast, and nibbled on his own as they walked.  
"What, didn't even put some jelly on this?" Mickey joked, and Ian gave Mickey a shove. Mickey shoved him back before remembering his ribs when Ian yelped.  
"Fuck, sorry Gallagher. Ian." Mickey corrected myself. When they were under the L Mickey lifted Ian's shirt to take a look. His whole left side was one big ugly bruise.  
"Let's get some cold beer to hold on that for you, huh?" Mickey turned toward a corner deli, but Ian grabbed his hand and stopped him.  
"I've got a better idea". Mickey shook off his hand, looking around, but followed him. Once they were out of the neighbourhood Mickey took Ian's freckled hand in his own again.

Ian led Mickey to some nearby woods that had a small lake tucked away in the middle. As soon as the water was in sight, he started stripping off his clothes and shoes, leaving them where they dropped as he ran straight in, completely naked, giving yells as the cold water splashed on his body.

"Not happening, Gallagher. Come out before some water animal eats your dick off"  
"Water-animal huh? Come on you chicken, get your fucking clothes off and get in here."  
"Fuck you I'm not chicken. Jesus!" but Mickey hesitated and slowly walked towards the water. Surely that wasn't safe? Should've just taken a bloody shower or gone down to the lido. Ian continued to yell at Mickey from the water, so he took his shoes and shirt off and inched closer. Mickey stood with his feet in the water, which was fucking cold enough. Mickey was happy enough to watch Ian's naked body twist around as he played in the water like he was a little kid and it was Christmas. When Mickey turned around to see if anyone could hear Ian's mad screams, he felt Ian grab his torso and throw him into the water. Mickey panicked, and flailed his arms around trying to keep his head above water.

"Woah, Mick, chill, you can stand here." With Ian's hands supported him, Mickey realised he was right and felt his face flush pink with embarrassment.

"You can't swim huh?" Ian asked gently, one hand still snaked around the shorter boy's waist.  
"Fuck you I can swim" Mickey shot back, pissed. When Ian said nothing Mickey sighed. "Fine I can't swim. Who the fuck was going to teach me? Terry? Nah. No need to swim, as long as I can manage the fucking bath, there's no need". Ian let out a laugh. ' _He is fucking laughing at me, the prick?'_ thought Mickey, defensively

"I don't think you ever bathed when I first met you, Mickey! Must have learned to swim a little since then!" Ian stood back and splashed Mickey with water. Mickey wiped the dirty water off his face and splashed Ian back, making sure his feet were firmly planted. After a while, Mickey waded back to the shallow bank and sat on the sand that was peppered with sticks and soggy leaves. Mickey sat back, watching Ian swim to the middle of the lake and back in, laughing and enjoying himself. As Ian waded back in, Mickey called out to him  
"Walk slower, boy. Ian laughed.

"You like what you see?" Ian asked, but did slow down, and exaggerated his walk.

"Damn right I do" Mickey replied. Mickey could stare at Ian's toned body all day, but his eyes tracked to the scars and wounds on his body. Ian's ribs on his left were clearly swollen underneath the bruising, and although his face looked better than it did this morning because of the cold water, it was not the pretty, unbroken white face that Mickey loved. _Loved._ Mickey thought, ' _Shit. I do love him_.'

As Ian stood before Mickey, his already tall frame towering above Mickey as he sat on the shore, Mickey met Ian's green eyes.

"I love you, Ian Gallagher". After a surprised look, and a moment's hesitation, Ian bent his beautiful body down to kiss Mickey, and whispered onto his lips.  
"I love you more, Mickey Milcovich.". After they'd had sex and cleaned each other up in the cold water, they dressed and made their way home. Although Mickey could feel himself flinch with every look that they got from strangers and neighbours, Mickey forced himself to hold his boy's hand the whole way to Fiona's.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, put that shit down and come look at this" Mickey called from the living room.  
"I'm making the kids some dinner, Mick, wait a few minutes". Ian called back, and kept chopping the vegetables.  
"Was I not fucking clear, Gallagher?" Mickey shot back, closer to him now. Ian looked up, mad.  
"Shit, I'm sorry man" Ian repented, seeing the look Ian was shooting at him "just leave that for a second and come have a look at this, will you?" he said, waving a piece of paper. Ian put the knife down and rinsed his hands in the full sink. Wiping them on his jeans, Ian strolled over and plucked the piece of paper from Mickey's hand.  
"What's this?" Ian asked, looking at the print out of some real estate website.  
"It's a golden ticket, what do you think it fucking is?" He said this, in a classic Mickey way, but he grabbed Ian's hand and led him to the couch, in a way that reminded Ian how much he'd changed.  
"Look, I found it at the library. Yes I know where the library is" he added as Ian raised his eyebrows. Ian laughed a little but didn't interrupt. "It's a place in an estate. There's not much to it, and it's a far bit away from your family's place, but we don't really need much and I reckon we can afford it, the man said we can look at it this afternoon." Ian didn't know what to say. He knew the two of them couldn't stay at Fiona's forever, and now that Mickey's dad's house was sold, they didn't have many options. Still, Ian would never have thought Mickey would be the one to suggest a place.  
"What about your record?" Ian asked.  
"I have enough money and I haven't given the courts trouble in a while. I think if I show around some cash they'll let us. Plus you've never been convicted of anything, and they don't exactly have many fucking angels lying around this part of the yard to rent it. So you don't think it's a terrible idea?"  
"I think it's a wonderful idea". And Ian did. Ian grabbed the back of Mickey's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. When Ian pulled away, Mickey grabbed Ian back and kept going. They would have fucked on the couch if they didn't hear Ian's brothers and sisters coming up the path to the house. Instead of jumping up like he usually would, Mickey simply folded up the paper and put it in his jacket pocket, and leaned back. Ian smiled and went back to the dinner. A fruit and vegetable truck had broken down a few blocks away so the Gallagher household was eating posh for this week. A few hours later, after they'd all eaten some of the soup that Ian had made, Mick and Ian made their excuses and headed towards the estate. Mickey shook hands with the man waiting outside, and talking about his kids. Ian soon saw why his conviction wasn't going to be a problem. This was someone he knew from his time in juvie.  
"And this of course is my Ian" _My Ian!_ Ian thought, knowing he had a stupid grin on his face.  
"Gallagher, I'm Greg Smithson, I feel like I already know you, this guy never used to shut up about you when we were inside together." Ian knew that was an exaggeration, but still loved that the tips of Mickey's ears went a little pink for a few minutes.  
"I'll let you boys look around a bit. The last couple in here left some stuff behind, but I can clear out anything you don't want, just let me know". They two of them went inside while Greg smoked a cigarette and talked on the phone out the front. They silently looked around the place: the kitchen was small, but there was a fridge already there and the taps worked. There was a small living room with a broken clothes horse in the corner and a doorway with no door leading to the bedroom, and a bathroom just big enough for a shower and a toilet. Ian realised that Mickey was looking at him, waiting. He looked vulnerable, as if he was waiting for Ian's approval.  
"Mick, it's perfect. Are you sure we can afford it?"  
"Don't worry about it, my man, I've got my dad's money to set us up with a new mattress and a couch and tv or something, and then we should be able to keep ourselves afloat if we're both working. You sure this is what you want?" He asked. Ian said nothing but kissed him, and pushed him against the counter top. They couldn't have sex now, but it was an unspoken promise for when the place was theirs.  
"Hey Smithson! We'll take it!" As Mickey went to settle details with Greg, Ian looked around the place more closely.  
"There's a shared laundry downstairs, that's included in your rent, just bring your own laundry powder and don't leave your clothes alone. The neighbours aren't too bad, but I wouldn't be leaving the place unlocked or nothing. I take three weeks rent in advance, and as long as you pay the rent and don't start cooking meth in here, you'll never see me. The pub on the corner has a dart board and a couple of pool tables which is good." Ian nodded, he knew the Horse and Elephant from Frank's early days before he was banned for life. Again, Ian wandered off and looked around, pulling the phone from his pocket and calling Fiona to explain. He expected her to be worried or mention the kids, but more than anything she sounded relieved. Mickey left with Greg for a few minutes, and came back with some black rubbish bags and a vacuum cleaner. For a few hours, Mickey and Ian worked and chatted away picking up the odd DVD case or empty gin bottle that the previous renters had left. Admittedly, Ian did most of the chatting, but Mickey's stupid grin matched Ian's and it wasn't long before the two were fucking on the floor, getting carpet burns from their new house.

After, Mickey dozed off, and Ian wrote him a quick note with a pen he found and a piece of old paper towel. Ian left the keys with Mickey, trusting that he would be there when Ian got back and pulled the door shut. Ian knew there was a big Tesco's not too far down the road, so with his hands in his pocket he walked down, whistling. He was just too happy. At Tesco's Ian loaded a trolley with cleaning supplies and a backpack to help carry it home with. He also grabbed a bag of chips and some beers, and then, thinking of Fiona, two green apples to eat tonight. Even with the backpack, it took twice as long to get back. When Ian got there, he struggled to knock on the door and the bags he was holding spilt to the floor as he tripped on the entrance. Mickey laughed, and picked up the stuff.  
"You're not fucking around here, are you Gallagher?" Ian didn't correct him, only smirked and took off the backpack.  
"Beer's in the bag, I'm going to start on the bathroom" Ian replied over my shoulder, already heading there.  
"Why? This place is not too bad." Mickey replied.  
"I know! It's great Mick, honestly! I just want it to be perfect for us, and I want to be able to show it off to Fiona and the kids".  
"What? They can't come here! This is for us!" Ian could hear the panic in Mickey's voice  
"Relax Mick, I at least need to show Fiona before she'll let me move out. Even if she's desperate to have a couple of fewer mouths to feed back home".  
"Okay, you do what you want, Greg's organised for me to help out at the pub down the road."  
"Already? Jesus, I can't have you being the main bread-winner in this house. Maybe I need to do another porno" Mickey's face went white for a minute, before realising Ian was joking. ' _Never mentioning that one again, that's clearly a sore spot_ ' thought Ian.  
"Here, swap shirts with me. That pub is nicer than the Alibi, and your ripped sleeves don't look great." Mickey gave Ian a look. Ian winked and answered "don't worry, your hair looks great as always". Another look. Ian was glad he'd stopped using the word fag though. It never did feel right. He took the shirt though, and Ian buttoned it up for him and Mickey let him. Ian slapped his ass as he turned away and called "Have a good day at work honey!" and grinned at him.  
"Later, you idiot". Mickey pocketed the keys and pulled the door closed behind him. A few minutes later Ian could feel his phone vibrate with a text.  
 _I'll cut a key copy before I come home. Later. Honey._  
Mickey's humour always made Ian laugh.

Ian took a scrubbing brush and the bottle of bleach out of the bag, and plugged in some earphones. He spent at least two hours scrubbing the bathroom from floor to ceiling, scrubbing the toilet until it shined and his head was dizzy with bleach fumes. Ian took a quick 10 minute break to shovel down a bit more than half the chips and 2 cans of beer. Exchanging the bleach for sugar soap, Ian began scrubbing the grime off the walls. Hours passed and his body was aching. It didn't seem to matter how many pull ups Ian could do, that was nothing compared to the 6 or 7 solid hours of scrubbing he'd done. The place did look so much better though. Ian thought about taking another break, but then thought of Mickey down the road, who had also been working for those 7 hours, and couldn't. Ian wasn't going to be just some house-hubby who sat around while his boyfriend brought in the money. It was 9 o'clock when Mickey got back home and opened the door. Ian was sitting on the floor cleaning the cornices because he couldn't support his body to stand. Ian looked a mess, and when he saw Ian, Mickey dropped his jacket and keys and jogged over.  
"Jesus Ian, have you stopped all evening?" Ian could only let his head roll back and meet to Mickey's eyes.  
"Fuck, Gallagher, you've tired yourself out, did you eat?"  
"Had a few chips after you left" Ian mumbled and let himself be scooped up by Mickey. Mickey didn't have a plan though, and realised there was no couch or bed to bring Ian to. Instead he positioned himself tucked under the living-room side of the kitchen counter with his jacket as a pillow. Ian half-sat, half lay with his head on Mickey's warm chest and held onto Mickey's arms that he had wrapped around Ian. Feeling safe, Ian fell asleep, forgetting to ask Mickey how his night had gone. When Ian woke up mid-morning, they had slid down to be spooning on the floor, with Mickey's arms still wrapped protectively around Ian. Ian took a moment to appreciate Mickey's strong body against his back, then carefully peeled himself away and stood up. Ian's whole body ached from yesterday's cleaning frenzy, but he was proud to see that the small flat was looking good. One more day of cleaning and it would be good to go. The sound of his phone rang, startling him. Ian lunged to grab it before it woke up Mickey. Too late. It was Linda.  
"Hi Linda, I'm not late am I? I thought I was starting this afternoon?" Ian started to think about the best way to get to and from Kash and Grab from here.  
"I was calling because I'm shutting the store this weekend. It's a last minute family thing, so I can still pay you for one of the days since I didn't give you any notice" came Linda's voice.  
"Nah, that's okay Linda, I've got some stuff to do anyway. I'll see you Monday then, yeah?". That was a perfect opportunity to finish up the house before moving in. Feeling suddenly frisky, Ian went to where Mickey was now sitting and started to massage his shoulders while kissing the top of his head.  
"Sit down, you" Mickey grumbled yanking the red-head to the floor.  
"Oh you want it like this do you, tough guy" Ian murmured back, reaching towards his hips. Mickey slapped away my hands.  
"Stop it, Ian. Not now. I want to talk about yesterday". Ian didn't give up and started kissing his cheeks and down his neck.  
"For fucks sake!" Mickey exclaimed "When I got back yesterday, you looked half dead! Why the fuck did you exhaust yourself like that? Do I gotta be worried about you, now?" Ian was shocked. _What was he worried about?  
_ "You're worried about that? Really? I just wanted to clean this place up"  
"Don't give me that shit, this was more than that. What is it?" Mickey grabbed Ian's wrists and looked into his eyes as he spoke. Ian sighed. Mickey was serious.  
"Look Mickey, I want this to be perfect. I don't want to let you down. You were out working and bringing in money, and I didn't want to be just some dumb bitch sitting around at home waiting for you to come back. I didn't want to let you down, after you were so fantastic yesterday getting us this place, and being able to move in on the same day you brought it up. I need to be good enough for you, Mickey". Mickey looked shocked for a minute and dropped Ian's hands.  
"You don't think you're enough? You're nuts, Ian! I'm the one who has to work to keep up with you! You're always working hard at the store, helping out Fiona, keeping your family safe and not to mention keeping me from getting into trouble! It's me who doesn't deserve you! Not, don't argue, listen! You're the best thing in my life. Hell! The only thing in my life that I give a shit about. Colin from the bar has agreed to give me a go. I'm going to be washing dishes, a bit of security work, whatever it takes. I'm going to take care of you Ian". Ian could feel his jaw drop. Ian had always tried to be open about what he felt with Mickey, even in the early days when Mickey would threaten to hurt him when he did. But Mickey had never been this honest and open and vulnerable with Ian. Ian was stunned. They stared at each other for a long while before they did what they did best. Fucked.

Mickey always liked the way Ian looked after they'd fucked. A little sweaty, his eyes bright and red hair ruffled.  
"Come on, I'm starving. Let's go get a sandwich or something and go shower at Fiona's. About time we went back to your family's place". Mickey stood up and offered a hand to Ian, whose legs wobbled getting up. Mickey was still a bit mad at him for working himself to the bone last night, but didn't say anything. Mickey saw Ian's raw knees and hands from when he'd been on his knees scrubbing.  
"With knees like that, I'd usually expect my dick to be raw this morning". Ian looked down and smirked, giving Mickey a shove. Mickey shoved him towards the door and grabbed the backpack sitting on the floor. Pulling a can of carpet cleaner out of it Mickey discovered two apples sitting there.  
"You on a fucking health kick now or whatever?" Mickey tossed one to Ian though, and pocketed the other.  
"Hold on, Mick. Let me put this carpet cleaner down now and we can vacuum it up when we get home". Mickey laughed.  
"You're so domestic Gallagher. Since when are you so forward-thinking about cleaning?" when Ian opened his mouth Mickey interrupted "I know I know, you want it to be perfect. Don't worry, I like this new you. Now let's get out of here I'm starving". Mickey slung an arm around Ian's shoulders and they walked down the stairs. They'd both done a lot of talking this morning, and seemed to be all talked out. They both enjoyed being able to walk down the street like this, and not feel judged. Sure, there were the occasional twats who commented, or old ladies looking at them funny, but not nearly enough to make them regret coming out. They munched on their apples, and ditched the cores at a passing car. When they passed an off-license they bought some donuts and a beer for Mickey, and a banana and an orange juice for Ian.  
"Want a fucking straw with that?"  
"Piss off, Mick."  
When they got to the Gallagher's, V and Kevin were leaving with Liam, Debbie and Carl. Fiona was racing around trying to put earrings on while cleaning up their breakfast mess. Lip was nowhere to be seen.  
"Hey boys, you've missed breakfast. I can't see your house today, but I'm excited to take a look. Maybe tomorrow? So glad you're growing up Ian!" She blew a kiss as she ran out the door. Ian laughed and immediately went to go wash up the dishes from their breakfast.

Mickey couldn't believe he'd missed it until now how often Ian wordlessly cleans up after his brother's and sisters. Mickey realised that was his role. Mickey understood that the Gallaghers all took care of one another, and all chipped into the household, but he'd only ever thought about it in terms of money.  
"I'm going to take a shower, maybe pack some of our things from your room? Most of my stuff is still in that suitcase from when dad's place sold." Ian nodded and kept washing dishes. There wasn't much warm water left, after all the kids had gone through, and Mickey felt bad for using the last of it before Ian got a chance. When Mickey got out Ian had already started filling a duffel bag full of clothes and shoes. Turns out Ian didn't have that much stuff.  
"Take the blanket and a couple of pillows, Fiona won't mind. And grab some toothpaste if they have any spare. Let me pay for a cab to drive to ours."  
They split the cab fare, and even got the driver's help loading their stuff in and out of the cab. Ian insisted on vacuuming the place when they got there before they put anything inside. Mickey rolled my eyes but was secretly pleased at how well Ian had taken the whole idea, and how much care he was giving the place. They didn't have anywhere to unload their stuff to, so they lay the blanket down in the would-be bedroom, and piled the rest of the stuff in the bedroom corner. Ian insisted they scrub the walls of the living room and clean the kitchen which involved dragging the fridge out and cleaning behind it before putting it back again.  
"What's the fucking point when you just put the thing back over the top again" Mickey grumbled, and contemplated for the 12th time leaving Ian to it and going to the bar. Ian kissed the top of Mickey's head and let the comment slide.

"Why don't you go get us some take-away. I'll finish the kitchen and tomorrow we can worry about things like furniture and cutlery. Take your time, I don't mind finishing this" Ian suggested. Mickey felt a little guilty, but not enough to stay, so he ran a hand through Ian's fiery hair and gave him a quick kiss. Jogging down the stairs, Mickey ran into a neighbour for the first time. A tall black guy with locks to his shoulders, the man gave a quick "hey" as he passed, and Mickey was too surprised to return the sentiment. Shaking this odd neighbourly greeting off, Mickey looked around the street. Not entirely sure where to go, he decided to head towards the Tesco's that he knew Ian had gone to yesterday. It was a huge store, and Mickey had the urge to fill his pockets and just run out, but he also wanted to make a fresh, more honest start with Ian. Maybe he'd have some of that "civic pride" Ian had once suggested and would steal from another suburb. Mickey sniggered to himself and feeling entirely uncomfortable and domestic, grabbed a trolley from out the front and wheeled it in, filling up with as many essentials as he thought he could carry. Mickey discovered that most older shoppers had a material trolley on wheels that they were carrying their shopping home in. Mickey scoffed, but as he thought more and more about how to get it home, he realised that he hadn't brought the backpack and maybe this Tesco's run was a bad idea. Mick saw the same backpack Ian had bought yesterday for £10 and threw it in the trolley. He didn't buy much food, and mostly stocked up on utensils for the kitchen, forks and knives and shit. He saw a saucepan and ladle and threw them in, thinking of baked beans for dinner. Knowing buying plates would be too heavy, he bought a packet of bright green plastic ones, clearly meant for kid's parties and the like. Going through the checkout Mickey saw a sign that was advertising a position to work on the registers.  
"Hey, what kind of hours do you get working on the tills?" he asked the checkout girl, pointing at the sign.  
"As much as you want. It's good money, and even better if you can work evenings and weekends. We're open 24 hours so they're always struggling to find new staff. You thinking of applying?" she asked, and pointed to the total amount on her screen "Cash or card?"  
"Cash, nah not me. My boyfriend. We just moved in up the road."  
"Boyfriend, huh? I can see from the plastic plates you've not been here long. It's not exactly the man in the uniform dream you're looking for, but it'll do. Tell you what, bring him down here Tuesday morning about 9ish and I'll put in a good word with the manager. What's your name?"  
"I'm Mickey, and his name is Gallagher. Shit, I mean Ian."  
"Ian and Mickey, alright. Well, catch you Tuesday Mickey. Enjoy your plates". Mickey nodded back to her. He couldn't remember the last time he'd chatted with a check-out chick, usually just gave a fuck you to storekeepers like Kash. When Mickey got back he pounded the door with the back of his hand,  
"Open up idiot, it's me and my arms are about to fall off!" Ian opened the door wide and leaned against it with one arm up, holding the corner of the door. Fuck it was hot coming home to him. He was shirtless and sweaty from cleaning.  
"Fuck it smells like a hotel bathroom in here, Gallagher. You've done a good job!"  
"You've never been in a hotel bathroom in your life, Mickey. Now I don't smell take-out!" he smirked flinging the door shut.  
"Waste of money, I thought we'd do beans instead." Mickey held up the bag he thought held the cans of beans. Mickey started to pack things away when Ian grabbed his hips and pushed him back so Mickey was leaning over the bench.  
"Guess you missed me, huh Gallagher?" Mickey could feel Ian's quick fingers undoing his jeans and yanking them down. Mickey let out a long "fucccckkk" as Ian slipped one then two fingers in his ass. ' _God I've missed this_ ' thought Mickey _'Has it really been only hours since we last fucked?'_ There was no need to keep an ear out for the kids walking in, or worrying about whether one of Ian's brother's was going to be in the bedroom. When they both came, they stood there slumped for a few minutes before heading the bathroom to clean up.  
"Now about those beans?" asked Ian.


	4. Chapter 4

"I gotta run, Mickey, I'm going to be late for work" Ian rushes into the bedroom to grab his coat and then heads for the door.  
"I thought you weren't working at Tesco's tonight?" Mickey asks, not looking up from the TV.  
"Nah, not at Tesco's.." Mickey look up, surprised. _Shit_. _He's wearing his metallic Doc Martens and he's got eyeliner on again_ , thought Mickey, jumping up.  
"You're not going to the fucking club! I can't fucking deal with this right now!" Mickey grabbed Ian roughly by the arm, which Ian tries to shake off. Ian's usually the stronger of the two, but at this moment, Mickey was madder. He shoved Ian into the wall.  
"You're not fucking going, now get that fag makeup off your face". Ian's eyes narrow. _Well fuck him,_ thought Mickey.

"Not fucking cool, Milkovich. You do not get to choose where I do and do not go. I need to earn money and contribute to this fucking relationship as much as you do. It shouldn't matter how I get that money, I'm not going to fuck anyone". Ian managed to slip out of Mickeys grip and flings the door open, stamping out.

"Fuck!" Mickey yells. It's too bloody cold for Mickey to chase after Ian without a jacket. Instead, Mickey runs into their room and grabs a leather jacket and a beanie. Grabbing the keys that sit on the counter Mickey slam the door shut and make sure it's all locked up. Ian is flagging down a bus when Mickey catches up to him. Mickey is made, but he's not going to get them kicked off the bus. He's worked too hard to be respected in this new neighbourhood.

"What the fuck are you doing, Ian?" Mickey whispers furiously.

"You already said it, I'm being a fag for tonight. You know, a nice twink for some fat old guy with lots of money". Mickey's mouth drops open, without thinking he raises a hand to hit Ian but Ian catches it.

"Don't you fucking dare, Mickey. Grow the fuck up. Go home. Get lost. I don't care, just don't tell me I can and can't do." Ian steps over Mickey as he reaches his stop. Mickey races after him and swears at the bus driver when he closes the door before Mickey is out. Mickey can see Ian slipping inside, and he goes to follow him but the bouncer pushes Mickey back.

"Pay up, or back of the line, kid". Mickey growls at him and smacks £50 in his hand.

"Happy, dick-breath?" The bouncer wordlessly stands aside to let Mickey in. But Mickey is not 3-feet inside when Craig, Ian's manager, puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Mickey, you better not cause any trouble. You can either leave, or sit at the bar and get a drink. You're not going to stop Ian working okay? And if you're going to talk to him, you're going to pay him for his time and you're going to call him Curtis. That boy makes good money for me." Mickey doesn't have a plan, and it looks like he's not going to win, between all the security guys and with Ian not listening anyway. But if Ian is going to be there all night, Mickey is sure that he is going to wait and make sure no old trash puts their filthy hands on him.

Mickey buy a beer and waits for Ian to come out. When he does he's only wearing his gold, tight shorts and his Docs. He's also got glitter covering his chest. Mickey stand up to walk over but catches Craig's eye. Slowly, Mickey lowers himself onto his stool and orders a double vodka. As it happens, Ian comes to him.

"Hey hot stuff, want a dance?"

"No I don't want a fucking dance" but Ian starts to thrust and grind in a way that makes Mickey sick. Mickey starts to remember the rules. With Ian's hand on his chest, Mickey starts to calm down, and listens to Ian's whispers.  
"Look Mickey, I know you're upset, but this is what I have to do. This pays twice as much as Tesco's and I'm not going to fuck or suck anyone here but you, got it? Tonight I'll roam, but I'll also get some cage time where men can look but can't touch. Okay? You can stay tonight, but we're going to lose money if you drink all night and pay for my dances, yeah? Now kiss me you idiot, and let me get to work". Ian stares down at Mickey, his eyes so much more prominent with the eyeliner, and his abs and his V before his shorts are almost too much for Mickey. Looking at this version of Ian, being in this club, it all makes Mickey feel gay. He hates feeling gay. Being gay. Sure, he was in love with Ian, but he's not gay for anyone else. Other guys are just people to fuck and get fucked by, Ian is the only one he cares about. Mickey manages a nod. Ian, or Curtis tonight, leans over the bar calling to the barmen.

"Keep the vodkas coming, Matt". Ian squeezes Mickey's cock and kisses him roughly on the mouth before walking away. After a few steps he pauses and turns back,

"And if you ever call me a fag again, Mickey, I swear to God we're done." Mickey gulps. He means it. Mickey takes the vodka Matt puts on the counter and slams it. And then another. After a few more doubles, Matt changes Mickey to beer, and then to light beer. But Mickey stay glued to the seat, with his eyes glued on Ian. Occasionally a guy will take the seat next to Mickey, but if Mickey's look doesn't give them the message, his "fuck off" does. As Mickey follows Ian around every moment with his eyes, Mickey finds himself pretty sure Ian was making sure he stayed within eye-sight too. As the alcohol started catching up with Mickey, he felt himself wanting it all to stop. He wanted Ian to come home. Mickey stood up and staggered towards him, but was able to take only one step when he felt the world spin and passed out.

Mickey woke up, lying in what looked like a locker room. He realised this was the back room for the club, where the guys all got changed and locked all their winter clothes before stripping down to their tight metallic underwear. Next to Mickey was Ian, bending down tying his shoe laces, his hair sweaty and ruffled, but his clothes back on. Mickey tried to say hello to him, but it came out as one big mumble.

"Come on you little shit, time to go home". Ian's voice was harsh, but at least he was talking, and he was coming home. Mickey went to stand up, but couldn't support himself and went down again.

"You alright Curtis? You need a hand?"

"Thanks Matt, if you could give me a hand getting him up, and I'll take it from there. You not going to David's party tonight?" Mickey felt hands underneath his arms lifting him up. Mickey leant on Ian, trying his best to stay upright.

"Nah, I gotta stay clean for a bit. Get my head straight."

"Yeah? Good on you. Wasted can be a shitty look." Even drunk Mickey knew Ian was referring to him. Ian bitching about him to his work mates with Mickey there felt shitty. But Mickey knew he'd done this to himself. There was definitely a part of Mickey that was still pissed at Ian for not caring that he would be jealous, and for working here at all anyway. But the rest of Mickey knew that this mess was mostly my fault. _' I'm just not turning out to be good enough for him'_ Mickey thought sadly.

When they got on the bus, Mickey leant his head on Ian's shoulder and tried not to vomit. It was only a short ride, and with a lot of stumbling on Mickey's part they got off the bus. When they got to the stairs, Ian didn't bother trying to help Mickey up. Instead he picked Mickey up over his shoulder and fire-man carried me up.

"That's my army man" Mickey whispered, and Mickey heard him let out a quick chuckle. When they got inside Mickey had just enough time to run to the bathroom and vomit in the toilet. Mickey thought Ian would leave him there, but instead Ian took off his coat, and sat next to Mickey on the floor. Rubbing Mickey's back and stroking his hair, Mickey felt that he didn't deserve any of it.

"Go to bed Ian, I'm not your mess to clean up. I've been an asshole."  
"Yes you have, Mick. But I love you".

' _He is calling me Mick! How does he love me right now?_ ' thought Mickey gleefully. Mickey vomited again. And Ian stayed there. Mickey hadn't thrown up like this since he lived with Terry, before Ian had shown up in his life. When he was done, Ian helped him into the shower.

Ian looked at his mess of a boyfriend. Ian knew working at the club would upset him, but Ian hadn't seen Mickey drink like this. Ian was used to him punching somebody and messing them up, not sitting and drinking. It was too damn close to Frank's behaviour and it scared Ian. So Ian tried to take care of him. He tried to make Mickey see that he wasn't going to give up on him. Ian was used to vomit. When Mickey was done, Ian stripped him off for the shower. Mickey could only sit on the floor helplessly, so Ian crouched over him as much as he could in the cramped space, and cleaned him up. He hadn't vomited on himself, and for once there was no blood involved, so it wasn't too hard. Ian moved him to the mattress on the floor, making sure he was on his side with a bucket next to him.

"You puke, do it in the bucket". Mickey sat up and grabbed at Ian's legs.

"What is it, Mick?"

"Let me say sorry" he said, and tried to rearrange himself to suck Ian off.

"Mick! No!"  
"I'm sorry Ian! Let me make it better, please! What can I do?" Ian sighed and placed him back on his side.

"You can make it better in the morning. Sleep it off for now, I'll still be here when you wake up". Ian stayed for a few minutes, stroking his back and thinking. Was it worth it to keep working at the club? The answer was still yes. They were still making rent, but Ian wanted it to be so much more than that. _'I don't want us to scrape by, I want up to be able to save and get a car, or go on a holiday, or get a better house. I wanted us to have a proper life together, to keep growing. Together_ ' thought Ian. Once Mickey was snoring, Ian stood up and went to the kitchen. He tried not to eat before a shift so he wouldn't look bloated, and with the men buying him drinks, Ian wasn't the most sober either. Ian often would throw some up during his shift to stay with it, and if Matt could he would make sure Ian was getting water instead of liquor, but it wasn't always possible, and they both knew how messy it can get if the client finds out. Ian buttered a couple of slices of bread, and ate it leaning against the counter. ' _Are Mickey and I ever going to be okay? Things seem to be getting better, he is more comfortable about being in public together, but we both just have such messy histories. And with no good role models, it's so hard to figure out what a good relationship should look like. How to make it work_.' Ian finished the butter sandwich and crawled into bed. ' _Tomorrow'_ he thought.


	5. Chapter 5

Note: As any one reading this might have noticed, I'm using the characters from the US shameless, but I'm experimenting with setting it in the UK as I haven't been to America and don't know some details. Also this chapter is 100% based off Fun's "We Are Young" song.

Mickey's head was spinning. He'd been drinking all afternoon, and hadn't had anything to eat besides a handful of nuts at the bar, probably covered in piss more than salt. It was a shitty time for the couple at the moment. Living with each other, and only each other was stressing them out. They were so different in so many ways. Ian was clean, loved the apartment to be in order, felt the need to clean the flat more than just picking up the rubbish on the floor. Mickey was messy, he would smoke in the house and use anything as a cigarette tray, and wouldn't wash if he wasn't constantly forced to by Ian. Ian was always thinking about the future, thinking about bigger and better things for them. Mickey was always expecting things to crumble around them like they usually did. And then there was the issue of Ian working at the club, and Mickey's jealousy. Mickey knew he had overreacted about Ian going back there, and he had tried to apologise. But the truth was he felt like doing the same thing over and over again, each time Ian went back. Each time the subject came up, there were holes in Mickey's apologies, because he still wanted to be protective of Ian and was only sorry for the pain that caused Ian.

Mickey had been outside, smoking a joint, and when he walked back into the bar, his seat next to Ian was taken by some guy wearing sunglasses. _Sunglasses inside, what a dick_ , thought Mickey. The man was brushing back Ian's hair and running his fingers over a scar on his forehead. Mickey knew that he had caused that scar, in a fight they'd had months ago. Mickey marched over  
"What are you doing touching my boyfriend, huh dipshit?" Mickey spat, pushing the guy off his chair. It was only that he grabbed the edge of the bar that the man stayed on his feet.  
"Answer me!" said Mickey, forcefully, grabbing his shirt.  
"Mick, leave it" Ian started  
"Your boyfriend deserves so much better than you" replied Mr. Sunglasses. ' _Oh shit'_ thought Ian.

But Mickey was done. Sure, he could beat up the guy, and for what? To end up proving him right? Mickey made as if to hit Sunglasses, and laughed when he flinched.

"Come on, Ian. We're done here" said Mickey, and walked towards the door. Ian stood there incredulous.

"Fuck you, you don't know anything about him" Ian snarled at Sunglasses. Ian got to the door then turned back, taking his wallet out of his pocked, he put a £50 note on the bar.  
"Sorry man, I hope that's enough" he said the bar-tender, who looked grateful that a fight had narrowly been avoided.

"Ian, forgive me! I can't handle jerks talking to you, you know I get jealous!" Mickey said, his eyes not meeting Ian's.

"Mickey that was wonderful! You came to my rescue, but you didn't fuck up our night. I'm so proud of you". Mickey smiled and looked up. Mickey pulled off his beanie and put it on Ian's bare head. He pulled off his scarf, and wrapped that around Ian's neck, and made sure Ian's jacket was done up fully. Then, tucking his gloves into his pocket, Mickey scooped Ian up, despite the difference in height. Ian said nothing, but closed his eyes and smiled as he let Mickey's strong arms support him, carrying him to the bus, and home.


	6. Chapter 6

Ian was glad he no longer had to pretend to be Mandy's boyfriend. In truth, and he had no plans of ever saying it out loud, but she was often a burden that he had to bear, simply because she couldn't deal with him not screwing her. And then she would his him anyway. She wasn't his beard, he was hers. Except she wasn't pretending to not be gay, she was just faking a relationship because she couldn't be bothered saying no to sleazy men.

Ian knew how he was thinking was harsh, but he also turned down guys every day, so he knew exactly how hard it was. He managed. But with Mandy living in London for now, he was free to go to the Milkovich's house and not waste time with her. Ian didn't bother knocking on the door, he knew it was unlocked. Who would be dumb enough to break into the Milkovich house?

"What the fuck are you doing here?" was the friendly greeting Ian got from Mickey's cousin. They were all standing around the gun table, loading their weapons and their pockets with guns. Last to look at him was Mickey.

"Grab a gun, Gallagher, we're moving out. You wanna talk, you gotta walk." He said as he pushed the magazine back into the gun he was holding. Ian stooped down and grabbed the nearest gun and strode over to Mickey.

"The fuck are you doing, Mickey?" he hissed.  
"It don't matter, put that fucking gun down, it weirds me out to see it in your hands" Mickey whispered back

"But you said.." started Ian. Mickey looked pointedly at his cousins, his eyebrows raised.

"Look, we're just collecting some cash alright? Should be a quick job, but if I get shot, be ready to nurse my hot ass back to health, alright?" To his cousins he called "Alright jerks, let's move it" As they headed for the van, Mickey turned back and gave Ian a quick peck on the cheek.  
"I'll be home soon, Red. Go have a smoke in my room or something".

Ian stood there in shock. He watched as the Milkovich van sped away into the night. The next thing he did was grab the gun he had just picked up, and wiped it clean with the inner lining of his jacket. It'd definitely still have his DNA on it, Ian knew, but the cops would never invest that money on this neighbourhood. Not wanting to go home just yet, Ian took Mickey's advice and headed upstairs to his room. It was a mess, naturally. Instead of wading through the mess like Ian normally did, he headed downstairs and found himself some rubbish bags to fill. Starting with beer cans and DIY-ashtrays, Ian threw out everything he knew to be junk. Next he grabbed an armload of Mickey's clothes and carried them downstairs to the washing machine. It moved when it washed, and made a racquet, but it worked, and by some miracle there was enough laundry powder. Not a highly coveted item in this household. Not having much else to do, Ian kept cleaning. He did little more than throw out beer bottles in the main room, being careful not to throw any bottles out that had even a mouthful left. Though the bottles seemed to be carelessly lying around, he'd been around the house long enough to know that the family each had a sharp memory for unfinished beers. He didn't want to draw attention to his cleaning, so he moved back to Mickey's room. He opened the window to air the room out, not an easy-task. That window hadn't been opened in months. Or was it years? He propped it open with a crow-bar lying on Mickey's floor. Before long, the washing machine stopped it's shuddering with a long beep. Ian got to work on hanging Mickey's clothes out on the hip-height fence of the back porch. The hot night would dry the stuff pretty fast, and checking the time on his phone, he decided to throw in another load. It was easy enough to sort his clothes, Mickey never wore much that wasn't greys or blacks or army green and everything he owned was faded. There was no risk of the clothes running. Next Ian worked on the bathroom that Mickey now had to himself. It could only be accessed through Mickey's room, and with his dad gone, Mickey held his own and forced Mandy to use the downstairs bathroom, and same with his cousins if they were over. Ian was taking a shower to rinse off the soapy shower walls when Mickey and the boys came home. Ian let out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. By the cheers and sounds of beer cans cracking, all had gone well. Ian didn't want to go down, and instead waited in Mickey's bed, regretting the choice to not include his sheets in the first load. Half an hour later, Mickey threw open his door and swaggered in.

"Ian! You're here! What the fuck happened to my room?" he asked, looking around.  
"Oh, I uh, threw some old stuff out"

"You threw my stuff out? My clothes?" Mickey came towards him menacingly. Ian scrambled back until his back hit the wall  
"Woah Mick, easy! I didn't throw out your clothes, I just washed them. There's some on the back porch drying and some in the washing machine. All I threw out were beer cans! And only empties! Actually, you know what? Fuck it! Fuck you Mickey!" Ian shoved grabbed Mickey's shoulders and spun them around, slamming Mickey against the wall with force.

"You just leave to do whatever Milkovich shit you gotta do, and then you come back and give me shit for helping you out while you're away?"

"Ian.. I" Mickey started

"No! You don't get to do that. You.." but Ian was interrupted by Mickey's lips crashing against his own. He tried to pull his head away, but Mickey had a fistful of his hair tangled in his fingers, pulling him back in. Ian found himself relaxing into it, and when they were both naked with Ian scissoring his fingers inside of Mickey, it wasn't clear who had initiated more than kissing. When both boys had finished, Ian pulled out of Mickey and rolled on the bed, laying flat on his back, still naked. Mickey grinned and pulled his jeans back on. Reaching into a drawer he pulled out a cigarette and placed it between Ian's lips, and tossed a lighter that landed on Ian's stomach. He returned to his set of drawers where he rustled around in each drawer before shutting it loudly and moving to the next.

"Whatcha looking for?" called Ian lazily, propped up on his elbows.

"Ashtray. I know I got a proper one here somewhere" Mickey replied, and continued his rustling, "my boyfriend will complain if I don't use a proper ashtray".

"Boyfriend, huh? I think your _boyfriend_ will be more upset if you don't come and cuddle him over here."

Mickey smirked and returned to where Ian lay on the bed. With a few gentle pushes, Mickey made room for himself, and moulded his body to fit around Ian's, enjoying the feeling of his chest pressed flush against Ian's toned back. With a free hand, Mickey ran a casual hand up and down Ian's hairless chest, his shorter arms unable to reach everything he wanted to. But when Ian took Mickey's tattoos hand in his own, cuddling them into Ian's own chest, it wasn't long until the two fell asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Moving in together, all of their individual possessions became collectively owned. Mickey thought that would bother him, never really having to share anything of his own. Although the Milkovich house was flawed, they respected each other's stuff, so long as it was kept in their room. Ian on the other hand, had always worn hand-me-down clothes, and shared everything he owned. All Gallagher kids knew that they were only as strong as each other, so they did whatever they could to keep each other afloat.

But Ian and Mickey had also always shared, from before they had lived together. Cigarettes were just bought by both boys, and passed between them. Beers had been passed back and forward from day one. And then there were things that couples naturally shared: toothpaste, soaps and the like. In the end the last thing that stayed their own was their clothes, and that was not always the case either. Generally, they wore different styles. Mickey didn't wear colour, wore only loose clothing, and cut the sleeves off every teeshirt he ever owned. Ian took more care to show off his body. It wasn't always a conscious choice, but he'd found that men, and sometimes ladies, often gave him things when he looked good. So his clothing choices meant tighter tee-shirts that highlighted his build, jeans that fitted, and shoes that he liked to keep clean, but could still run in. With Ian being a good few inches taller than Mickey, it wasn't too often they swapped clothes, but it wasn't unheard of either. The apartment wasn't big enough to have secrets, there wasn't any space to hide anything.

And so it was when Mickey was going through Ian's wallet to grab some cash that he found out Ian's birthday on an I.D. card. Reaching into his pocket, Mickey pulled out his phone and brought up the screen. ' _Shit'_ thought Mickey. Ian's birthday was only a few days away. Since they'd moved further from the Gallaghers, things like that didn't get warning. There was no Fiona to organise a Gallagher party that would ultimately go wrong, or Lip asking Mickey to help him nick something for Ian's present. Ian certainly hadn't mentioned anything. Mickey wondered if he hadn't found the I.D. whether he would have mentioned it at all. It wasn't as if they went on date-night every week, but they definitely had changed as a couple, and Mickey wasn't sure how to feel about Ian not telling him. Or, that he didn't know it already.

' _Shouldn't I know his favourite colour or some shit too?'_ Mickey thought. ' _Am I enough for Ian?'._ This wasn't the first time Mickey had asked himself this. Not even the first time this week. It was something that constantly plagued him. Was he good enough? Did Ian deserve better? When was Ian going to leave him, and if he was going to leave him, should Mickey leave first so he didn't get hurt? But Mickey was in far too deep for that. He knew he couldn't leave Ian, and he knew he would fall to pieces if Ian ever did leave him. So he pushed these thoughts down, and instead focused on what he could do to be better to Ian. Better for Ian. Mickey sat on the couch, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, slowly burning itself down without Mickey actively taking a puff. Inspired, Mickey pulled his phone out again, and stepped outside onto the landing, walking up and down past the doors of the estate.

"Hey Fiona, you still got those pictures you took on that camera from the last Gallagher party?" Mickey tossed his cigarette on the ground as Fiona answered her phone

"Yeah good morning to you too, Mickey. I'm well, thanks for asking." Mickey rolled his eyes, knowing Fiona was probably doing the same thing.

"Yeah yeah, good fucking morning. So you got those pictures or what?" Mickey was starting to wonder if this was a good idea, getting another Gallagher involved. What a stupid idea. He should just ignore the fact that he'd seen the birthday.

"Yeah I got them, they're still on the camera. Why?" came Fiona's distracted reply

"Nah, no reason. I'm going come round and get them, you gonna be home?"

"I've got to go to work, but I'll leave the camera on the bench, okay? You tell Ian that if he doesn't come over for a proper dinner soon, he's going to get himself de-Gallaghered."

Mickey hung up the phone and smiled a lopsided smile. As he let himself inside, Mickey called out to Ian who was coming out of the shower.

"I'm going out, see you tonight!" Mickey ignored Ian's questioning reply, and closed the door behind him, only remembering at the last minute to grab his keys. Months living in this place together and he still wasn't fully used to having to lock the house after him, or having keys to let himself back in. Leaving a spare set under a mat wasn't an option in this estate, and they didn't have the relationship to leave a spare with a neighbour either.

Mickey felt strange spending the afternoon finding a good picture of Ian and himself, and printing it out. The act of shopping for a photo frame and wrapping paper all felt so unnatural. But the weirdest part, was that Mickey enjoyed himself. It was such a normal thing to do, that he ignored the snigger from the off-license vendor who sold him a red ribbon bow to put on top once he'd wrapped it, and even said thank you when the same man suggested he also purchase sticky tape to wrap it up. By the afternoon though, Mickey was feeling quite chuffed with himself.

Mickey pulled the fly-screen door open, and fumbled in his pocket for the main door key. Before he could put it in the lock, Ian flung the door open.

"Where the fuck have you been? Why didn't you answer your phone?" Mickey took half a step back, stunned.

"What? It's been in my pocket all day, it must be on silent. You alright? What's going on?" Mickey tried to move the backpack that contained the photoframe out of sight. Ian saw the move and grabbed the backpack.

"What's wrong is that you leave all day, without telling me where you're going, when you promised me we were going to buy a bed frame today. But I guess you were out doing more important things like.." Ian stopped short when he pulled out the wrapped present, complete with bow.

"Yeah" said Mickey "that's for you, happy birthday or whatever. I'm sorry I forgot about the bed frame I just.." but it was Mickey's turn to be interrupted, this time, as Ian pressed his lips to Mickey's, present still in hand.  
"Can I.. can I open it now?" asked Ian, holding it was two hands now.

"You're not mad?" asked Mickey

"I can be mad at you later, I want to unwrap my present now!" and Ian did something he hadn't done in a while, which was drop to the floor cross-legged where he had been standing a moment earlier and unwrapped his present, ripping the carefully wrapped gift. Mickey took the moment to take off his jacket and close the door which still was open from Ian's abrupt greeting.

"I love it, Mick. I love you!" Ian scrambled up, gave Mick a quick peck on the cheek, then ran into the bedroom. When he rushed out again he held something small in his hand.

"I was going to wait too, but I guess now is a perfect time." He opened his hand to reveal the small jewellery box "Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich, will you marry me?".

Mickey stood there stunned for a moment, finding himself in a moment he had never even dreamed would exist before stammering

"O-oonly if you never call me Mikhailo again!"


	8. Chapter 8

Finally, things were working out for the two of them. Mickey worked nights and weekends at the local Spoonies, and Ian worked Tesco's on weekends and the club on nights. Their shifts didn't line up perfectly, with Mickey finishing around 1am and Ian around 5am, but it still meant they had the days together. It had taken the two of them long enough to make things this good, and Ian was so grateful to only be doing Tesco's and club doubles on weekends, and not 7 days a week anymore. With both of the boys working 7 days a week, they stayed out of trouble. With the exception of a few men who got too handsy with Ian at the club some nights when Mickey was there, Mick had not beaten anyone up for weeks, and he didn't have a bruise on him. Ian was pretty sure he hadn't touched a gun since they'd moved in together, but of course Ian never asked questions. They had enough money to pay the rent and bills, send £50 home to Fiona every week (any more than that and she gave it back since Ian was no longer living there), and to be putting some away every week. The two men were both running legitimate jobs at the moment, and opened a bank account each, and, after a brief discussion, a joint account for savings. Not entirely trusting of traditional banks, Ian also opened a safety deposit box where he put his club dancing tips in, after flattening them out under the corners of the TV-table.

"Hey Mickey" Ian called from the bedroom, as he stepped out of the shower. "What's next?"

"The fuck do you mean, what's next Gallagher? We've got until 5 before I gotta start leaving for work" he strode out into the bedroom, drying his hair while his body dripped water onto the carpet. Ian walked towards him and took the towel from Mickey's hands, drying his body, leaving kisses where he went.  
"Mmmmm" Mickey commented. When Ian was finished, he sat back down on the bed, as Mickey got changed.

"What I meant is, what's next for us? We're doing pretty well with money right now, and work is doing okay for both of us. Lip has moved to Ireland.."

"Fuck knows why" Mickey muttered. Ian continued;

"Debby finishes high school this year and she'll be moving away to college. Mandy is down in Kent with her man. Everyone is moving away, and I just want to know what our plan is." Mickey kept moving around the room, putting things away and straightening things up.  
"Mick?"

"Yeah Ian, I heard you." Ian sat fidgeting, and was about to tell him to forget it when Mickey came towards him and sat next to Ian on the mattress.

"Look Ian, I don't have a plan. I'm still trying to believe that this is working. That you're not going to run away with some other dude any minute. No shut up, I know you don't think you will. And most of the time I don't think you will either. I don't want to ruin a good thing though- I don't want to move away just yet and have to start again with finding jobs that line up with each other. What did you want me to say, Ian?"

"I'm just asking Mickey, shit I don't know the answer either. But don't you want to move somewhere else where the cops aren't chasing some gun fight or another. Or try living somewhere else where you've never beaten anyone up, and no one knows your name? Or we could stop using rubbers and have a kid?" Ian tried to joke, and Mickey's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"You.. you want to have a kid? I can't have a kid, Ian. No fucking way, I don't want to mess up some brat's life." Panic was visibly setting in, as Mickey started to pace around the room again, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Hey! Hey! Calm down Mickey!" Ian pulled him into a hug, and held him there until stopped trying to push him away. They screwed a few times, just to calm down and Mickey lit up a cigarette, the first he'd had in days.

"You serious about the kid, Gallagher?" he said softly between puffs. Ian plucked the cigarette from his mouth and took a drag before offering it back.

"Yeah, I am. Family is a big thing for me, Mick. You know that. I'd love to have one, and to raise it right. Without the guns, and the drunk dad, and without the 5 other kids in the house". Ian was pretty sure about it, he liked kids. He liked watching them grow up and learn.

"Yeah". Was Mickey's only reply. Ian couldn't read him, he wasn't sure what Mickey was thinking. He wasn't panicking as he was before, but his face was crumpled up a tad in thought.

"Am I not enough?" was his eventual reply. ' _This again'_ thought Ian.

"It's not about being enough, Mick. You are the only man I want to spend the rest of my life with, the only man I want to love and screw and come home to. But I also want a kid. Think about it? Please?"

"Yeah I'll think about it" Mickey mumbled.

"What was that?" clarified Ian

"I said I'll think about! Now let's go get some burgers or something" replied Mickey, desperate to get away from the conversation for now.

After, Mickey walked to work slowly, hands in his pockets and a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He'd promised Ian he'd think about having a kid. Mickey prided himself on there being nothing that could scare him, but honestly, he was shitting himself. Nobody he knew ever planned a kid, they just came along when you forgot to buy condoms or some girl lies to you and tells you she's on the pill because she wants to settle down. He also didn't know any gay couples, let alone some with kids. He didn't know how all of this was supposed to go. And he didn't know he had to plan it either. How did they even get a kid? And whose kid would it be, it couldn't be both Ian's and his, those scientists hadn't got that part of it figured out just yet, had they? And if it wasn't his kid, would he want it? Would he want it or love it or whatever if it was his? Mickey kept thinking on it as he cleaned the bar, and served the customers. The more he thought, the less answers he came up with. He must looked very spaced out because Tricia eventually asked him

"What's going on Mickey. You're here but you're not really, are you?"

"Tricia, do you know any gay couples that have been together more than a couple of months?" he asked, knowing he could trust her and that she'd be honest.

"Lucy and Brenda have been together 5 years now, why?"

"Nah, like guys. Men. Ian's been bringing up questions about our future and kids and all that, I don't know anyone that has all that, that didn't just knock some girl up by accident and whose daddy forced them to marry. Who plans it, you know? And what are the rules?" Mickey started working on the lemons and limes, cutting wedges for the night.

"The rules Mickey? You don't think everyone else here isn't just making it up? Gay or straight, no one knows how things are going to end up. It's just about making each other happy. Do you want to have kids?" Tricia continued to stare at the figures for the month, one hundred percent concentrated on Mickey, but trying desperately to act casual. Tricia hadn't seen Mickey act out, but his FUCK U-UP knuckle tattoos and the occasional black-eye that he sported to work were hard to ignore. Not that Tricia thought Mickey would do anything to jeopardise the job he worked so hard at, but she got the feeling that if things weren't working out with Ian that he would just bail.

"I guess I've never thought about it. And I don't think I feel ready now, but I don't think I ever will. I want to do whatever I can to make Ian happy, but will we be the same after there is a kid in the mix?" Mickey wiped his brow with his arm, being careful not to get citrus in his eye.

"Look" said Tricia, looking up from the books "every heterosexual couple thinks they're going to be the ones that won't change when there is a baby. But they always do. But you know what? They often change for the better or they just change, with no better or worse. But the ones that change for the worse, are the ones who stop having sex because of the baby hormones, and that's not going to be a problem for you guys! No one is going to be moody or hormonal, no one is going to be sore from pushing a baby out. And look, it's not going to happen overnight anyway, you don't have to commit to it now, just keep thinking on it. And think, even if you don't want a kid, what do you want? What is the future that you see for yourself?"

Mickey tried to picture himself holding a kid, and he realised he could. He could see himself feeding a baby, he could see himself playing catch with his son or daughter and he could see himself reading a kid a story. But in all of those imaginary scenarios, he could only picture it, if he pictured Ian beside him.


End file.
